To fence or not to fence...

I missed last Friday's Blog Hop.  Slaps self on the wrist.  I did get to visit a bunch of Blogs on Monday though.  Yes, I've decided that I do love this forum for communicating.  Once a week isn't onerous and it organises my life into daily deliberate actions.

So this week, I'm celebrating the fact that I'm fencing in part of my garden.

I'm very privileged to live in a house which was built in the 1950s on half an acre in the middle of Johannesburg.  I live here with my sister, who lives in the cottage and, my son and his fiancee who live in the flat.  I have the house and my brother, Geoff, from Cape Town is currently staying with me while he attends to some work projects.  Quite a full-house all around if I take into consideration that among us we have six dogs as well as eight cats (all of which are rescues and two of which are disabled).  My brother did a story on them over at Geoff's Blog.

Our two large dogs, who belong to my sister, are: Jaybee, a German Shepherd/ Rottweiler cross who was picked up on Johannesburg Road (hence the name JB for Jo'burg).  He is a gentle, lovable hunk of a dog.  Then there's Blaise, who's a Husky/ Border Collie cross with one brown eye and one pale blue eye (the only non-rescue animal).

Patrick & StJohn

My four are small dogs (The 'Littlies') and were all rescued just-in-time from shelters.  They are:  Patrick, a Yorkie who, if I let him, would love nothing more than to spend his days on his pillow on my bed - he objects to having to fraternise with 'the dogs';  StJohn is my dachsie cross - the tiniest of the lot with the biggest mouth who loves everyone and everything;

Ross & Kerryn integrating Cassie into the family

Angus the Scottie is quite an elderly chap with a lovely nature and, when the SPCA were neutering him, they discovered that his one eye was so badly damaged that it would need to be removed; Castiel (Cassie), my most 'needy' boy is possibly an American water spaniel cross who is so young that he hasn't yet grown into his paws.

A few weeks ago, StJohn (dachsie) got out of the gate and had an altercation with the bull mastiff next door.  StJohn came off a very second best and spent ages recovering.  We're just grateful that he only needed stitches and not surgery.

They look secure, but the other side of the garden is open

All of this doggie-information was a lead up to what's happening in my life now.  My house is really old and needs a lot of work but this week that takes a back seat as I'm having a fence put up in my garden to keep my Littlies safe.  It seems to be such a small thing but it's actually huge.  I'll no longer have to suffer heart-failure if anyone opens the main gate; no more worry that we'll have a car tragedy because the Littlies are only as high as the top of the bottom of a car's tyre; and an enclosed courtyard will keep StJohn and his very high-pitched shrieking away from the main gate and, perhaps (wishful thinking here) dampen his need to bark (shriek).  When I say 'courtyard', The dogs won't be very restricted, their running space when they're confined will be the size of a townhouse garden (about 600sqm or an eighth of an acre); they'll have the run of the full garden when it's safe; and my heart will also be safe.

Shock is a killer...

At lunchtime today I had a taste of what it feels like to go into physical shock and my heart goes out to everyone who experiences it.   I can also understand the sometimes drastic effects which shock can have on one's body, even to the extent of a coma or death.

My brother was showing me his new spray booth at his factory - that's the oblong structure which looks like an open container up on the right of the picture - and the very efficient industrial extractor fans he's in the process of having installed. Well, without thinking, I put my left hand into the, as yet, unsecured extraction tunnel to feel how strong the suction was and my fingers met the furiously-spinning blades of the industrial fan.  For some reason unknown to me, I thought the extraction was generated from 'a big sucking machine' at the end of the tunnel.  I'm so clueless... 

You have no idea how grateful I am that it only tore my nails and finger tips to shreds as well as bruised and bloodied my fingers which now throb like that 'dude downunder' (I don't mean Australia either...).  I could so easily have lost my fingers.  Thank you, Dear Father God and Your Angels who are watching over me.  With how accident prone I am, they have their work cut out for themselves. (No pun intended - well perhaps just a little...).

I walked quickly back to the office from the factory for some first aid and, it's just as well I sat down because very soon wave upon wave of nausea hit me; all the blood drained out of my face; I started shaking uncontrollably and my breakfast threatened to vacate itself as I began to faint - and that's for a minor injury.  I've been through much worse and not had the same reaction.  I think it was the acute awareness that I'd very, very nearly lost fingers and could easily have lost a hand, that pummelled my solar plexus and did me in.

Yes, I can honestly say that I understand the effects which shock can have on one.

This post was typed using only my right hand - very slowly - and I will now go and lie down with a painkiller or two...

Faith Reflection Sunday - Memorial Weekend

Today, on this Memorial Weekend in the United States, my poem of Joseph gladly takes a back seat to an incredible poem of love which I found on Caring & Sharing.

My love, thoughts and prayers for the families of all those who gave everything for their country.

Beautiful and Meaningful

Daddy's Poem 

----------------------

Her hair was up in a pony tail, 
Her favorite dress tied with a bow. 
Today was Daddy's Day at school, 
And she couldn't wait to go. 

But her mommy tried to tell her, 
That she probably should stay home. 
Why the kids might not understand, 
If she went to school alone. 

But she was not afraid; 
She knew just what to say. 
What to tell her classmates 
Of why he wasn't there today. 

But still her mother worried, 
For her to face this day alone. 
And that was why once again, 
She tried to keep her daughter home. 

But the little girl went to school 
Eager to tell them all. 
About a dad she never sees 
A dad who never calls.

There were daddies along the wall in back, 
For everyone to meet. 
Children squirming impatiently, 
Anxious in their seats 

One by one the teacher called 
A student from the class. 
To introduce their daddy, 
As seconds slowly passed. 

At last the teacher called her name, 
Every child turned to stare. 
Each of them was searching, 
A man who wasn't there. 

'Where's her daddy at?' 
She heard a boy call out. 
'She probably doesn't have one,' 
Another student dared to shout. 

And from somewhere near the back, 
She heard a daddy say, 
'Looks like another deadbeat dad, 
Too busy to waste his day.' 

The words did not offend her, 
As she smiled up at her Mom. 
And looked back at her teacher, 
Who told her to go on. 
And with hands behind her back, 
Slowly she began to speak. 
And out from the mouth of a child, 
Came words incredibly unique. 

'My Daddy couldn't be here, 
Because he lives so far away. 
But I know he wishes he could be, 
Since this is such a special day. 

And though you cannot meet him, 
I wanted you to know. 
All about my daddy, 
And how much he loves me so. 

He loved to tell me stories 
He taught me to ride my bike. 
He surprised me with pink roses, 
And taught me to fly a kite. 

We used to share fudge sundaes, 
And ice cream in a cone. 
And though you cannot see him. 
I'm not standing here alone. 

'Cause my daddy's always with me, 
Even though we are apart 
I know because he told me, 
He'll forever be in my heart'

With that, her little hand reached up, 
And lay across her chest. 
Feeling her own heartbeat, 
Beneath her favorite dress.

And from somewhere here in the crowd of dads, 
Her mother stood in tears. 
Proudly watching her daughter, 
Who was wise beyond her years. 

For she stood up for the love 
Of a man not in her life. 
Doing what was best for her, 
Doing what was right. 

And when she dropped her hand back down, 
Staring straight into the crowd. 
She finished with a voice so soft, 
But its message clear and loud. 

'I love my daddy very much, 
he's my shining star. 
And if he could, he'd be here, 
But heaven's just too far. 

You see he is a soldier
And died just this past year 
When a roadside bomb hit his convoy 
And taught the world to fear.

But sometimes when I close my eyes, 
it's like he never went away.' 
And then she closed her eyes, 
And saw him there that day. 

And to her mother's amazement, 
She witnessed with surprise. 
A room full of daddies and children, 
All starting to close their eyes. 

Who knows what they saw before them, 
Who knows what they felt inside. 
Perhaps for merely a second, 
They saw him at her side. 

'I know you're with me Daddy,' 
To the silence she called out. 
And what happened next made believers, 
Of those once filled with doubt. 

Not one in that room could explain it, 
For each of their eyes had been closed. 
But there on the desk beside her, 
Was a fragrant long-stemmed rose. 
And a child was blessed, if only for a moment, 
By the love of her shining star. 
And given the gift of believing, 
That heaven is never too far.

It's Friday

What does 'TGIF' mean to you?

In today's world, we are bombarded with TLAs, FLAs and a plethora of other acronyms - some meaningful, others not so much.  One of my pet hates is the incomprehensible text messages which I find impossible to decipher.  When grown men and women start using 'da' instead of 'the' in their correspondence, to me it means the beginning of the demise of a language; yet, to others, it means the evolution of the language, although I cannot understand how that can be. 

My brother made a very pertinent observation the other day.  With the advent of emoticons, avatars or whatever other name they're called (there are many names), the written language is once more being reduced to hieroglyphics.  I see his point, although it was not something about which I'd even thought.  

I've posted only a very few recognisable every day symbols here.  See how many you know - <3 is the symbol for 'heart'; :p - pulling a tongue; :) a smile; ;) a winking smile; :( sad; and so on.  How much more difficult is it to rather write 'I love you' than add <3?   There may be a few more letters but there's also a whole world more meaning.  I have decided that from now on, I'll make the effort to consciously catch myself when I want to use one of these modern symbols in my writing.  We are losing our language and it is mutating into something from which it evolved many thousands of years ago.  

I read in the news a while ago that it is even being mooted that cursive writing will no longer be taught in schools.  To me, that is the saddest 'development' of all.  Will there come a time when the art of words themselves is lost?  I sincerely hope not and am so grateful that my adult children don't use ridiculous abbreviations in their text messages.  

Sum of da NB tings lk wrds shdnt b mssd wth evn n txt msgs...

As I look forward to my weekend, one mutation in which I totally delighted when I saw it, is this rose from my garden.  A rose which God split perfectly down the middle even to the extent that the mid-petals were half cerise, half pale pink.  I was late in finding it but am so glad I found it in time to take some photos of it.  The rose bush itself produces flowers which are neither of those colours but are something in-between.  The bush has only ever produced this single half-and-half rose.

Have a wonderful weekend!

PETALLED TOUCH

When Love overflows

Each petalled caress

Transforms

Into a perfect rose

When desire deluges

Each whisped bouquet

Perfumes

The treasured words you say

When yearning cascades

Each satined ascent

Embraces

That cherished occasion

When love overflows

Each zested fibre

Savours

My you-kissed awareness

Sunshine All the Time

We're on our way into winter on this patch of the quilt so receiving The Sunshine Award from Sharon (Shells, Tales and Sails) is a most welcome delight.  

I'm very new to blogging.  Previously, I've written in solitude and been quite content.  However, now that I've discovered blogging, a whole new world has suddenly opened up.

Thank you, thank you, Sharon, for my morning Sunshine.  I truly appreciate it.

So, here are the rules:

• Feature a picture of this award in a post on your blog.
• Answer 10 random questions about yourself.
• Nominate 10 other bloggers. Be sure to link to their blogs and let them know. 

TEN QUESTIONS

1.     What inspired you to start blogging?

Hmmm.  This is a bit of a difficult one.  A while ago I opened a page on Facebook and started adding my poems and other writing to it.  As they tend to do, Facebook drastically changed their focus and all such pages went the way of the dinosaurs.  During last year, I moved everything from my Facebook page to a blog but didn't have a cooking clue what I was doing so that pretty much bubbled under the surface in the ether with me occasionally adding posts.  No great shakes and I wondered why 'everyone' found blogging so interesting.  Enter my brother Geoffrey of Geoff's Blogs who told me that he was entering the A-Z Challenge for April 2013.  He helped me register and I became immersed in the Challenge - except that I was still on my own in my little 'blogworld'.  Geoff suggested that the blog server was the problem and, on the 10th of April I copied all my posts including my A-Z on to my hard drive (I couldn't export for some reason) and started on Blogger.  Oh my!  Who could have known what delights were waiting to be discovered...

2.     How did you come up with the name of your blog?

I'm writing a novel (it's an epic fantasy so I'm finishing the first in the series at the moment).  I also write poetry; children's stories and poetry; as well as self-development and industry articles.  So, in effect, I write.  Felicity Writing Away is exactly who and what I am and why the name is so appropriate.

3.     What is your favourite blog to read?

My reading focus, since I am such a new blogger is mainly on other writers and all things writing; editing and publishing.  Having said that, I also follow foodies, archeologists, travellers, photographers and a whole bunch more.  I love this social environment and even if I only get to a couple or three blogs a day, I take much joy in reading everyone's work.

4.     Tell us about your dream job:

I've taken far, far too long to get to the point where I am able to spend time on my dream job which is and always will be to write.  I immerse myself in the world's I'm creating and my characters draw me into their lives totally.  I love that each one of them has a distinct personality which shines through as they fight for their very survival.  Yes, there's no doubt - my dream job is to continue to write away, each and every day…

5.     Is your glass half-full or half-empty?

This is an interesting question.  Half-full /half-empty are two sides of a coin, it's just easier and more valuable to weight the coin on the full side.  I honestly believe that we draw to ourselves what we project from ourselves.  I've recently done a consulting job where there was a major personality conflict.  Through some honest questioning of the parties and my giving honest suggestions, there's been a miraculous (yes, I believe in miracles and expect them every day) reversal of attitude from both parties.  I love that. 

6.     If you could go anywhere for a week's vacation, where would you go?

If I had only one week (or if I had the finances to do so forever), I'd disappear into the African bush.  There's nothing quite like waking up in the morning to the sound of elephant trumpets and lion roars, punctuated at irregular intervals with strident or melodious greeting by the many species of birds which grace our skies.  We are blessed with so many wildlife sanctuaries in Southern Africa and nothing revives my soul more than immersing myself in nature.

7.     What food can you positively not eat?

There's no food I cannot eat but if I'm ever in countries which have suspect eating habits, I only eat vegetables.

8.     Dark chocolate or milk chocolate?

Chocolate - period!

9.     How much time do you spend blogging?

I'm still learning about blogging so it varies a lot.  There are so many sites I like to visit.  However, I do work and I'm working towards finishing my novel so I try to visit two or three blogs a day with one being a new one.  That doesn't sound like a lot but I don't just 'stop by', I really read the blog.  People have taken time to write their thoughts, I take the time to appreciate them. For the next while, I'm going to try (operative word) to restrict myself as I really need to finish my novel which is so almost there.

10. Do you watch TV and if so, what are your favourite shows?

This is the easiest question to answer.  No.  I don't watch TV.

There are so many wonderful bloggers whom I know. The ten bloggers I've nominated for the Sunshine Award are:

(Warning to nominees below. This is a time-consuming post. I understand if it takes awhile or if you are simply too busy. Just wanted you to know you are on my 'good' list and I thought the award fit  :-)) [this was 'stolen' directly from Sharon as I cannot express it better]

·         Geoff Maritz (Geoff's Blogs)

·         Sharon Himsl (Shells, Tales and Sails)

·         Cherie Reich (Author)

·         John Wiswell (The Bathroom Monologues)

·         Alex Nader  (Alex NaderWrites)

·         Susan Scott (Garden of Eden Blog)

·         Julia Chang (A Dose of Jules)

·         Michael di Gesu (In Time)

·         Nick Wilford (Scattergun Scribblings)

·         C B Wentworth (C B Wentworth)

CRIMSON ROSES

This time, eight years ago, I was privileged to live for a while in the lovely village of Glentham.  I've mentioned this before so, for those who already know this, my apologies...

The village is tiny (about 250 people) and St Peter's Church was a short walk away from where I lived.  There were many days when I slowly walked past the church, drinking in its history.  The picture is linked to a history of Glentham which I hope you will find as interesting as I do.

As I stood in the Churchyard

Silence

Haunted

The echoes of lives

Gone

Forever

Deeply moved by the sadness

Of it all

I noticed

The trailing vines of ivy

The sprays of crimson roses

Adorning resting places

Of loved ones

Lost

Some long ago

Yet others recently 

I could not help but be moved

By the natural

Integrity of this

Gracious country society

As the evening sun

Broke through the overcast sky

Streaming shafts of pure light

Into another

Sunkissed

Day

Faith Reflection Day - Sunday 19 May 2013

My Faith Reflection post took a bit of a break last Sunday as it was Mother's Day and I was thoroughly and happily spoiled rotten by my children.  

I believe that there are no such things as coincidences and that, if one earnestly seeks understanding, that understanding will be happily given by God.  Yesterday I sat with an incredibly diverse group of people and we discussed the value and concept of developing Self.  What came out of the discussion for me is that we, as a species, generally find it so much easier to criticise and condemn other people; even to the extent of blaming anyone and anything else for our own misfortunes and failures, rather than taking ownership of ourselves and our actions.  

When I think about it, those times when I am blocked from completing or doing those things I intended to do, are those times when I allow myself to feel like a victim; when I blame 'circumstances' for my actions and decisions; and when everyone around me is 'down' on me.  When I accept my responsibility for myself, I find that life becomes easier to live and that completing my projects is much easier.  Not that the work or projects are any easier, but that the will to push through the blockages is strong enough within me.

It is in this spirit that I once again bring my life to Jesus and ask God for His guidance and direction.  I know that unless I do this, I am bound to keep repeating the blockages to my spiritual and personal growth.  I also know that those blocks I have put up will recur ad infinitum without His help.

My story of Joseph in poetic form continues and fits in quite well with acceptance of responsibility for Self.  Do enjoy it.  The section which I posted previously is blued out so you don't have to read it all again...

As we go into winter in South Africa - My Log Fire
Source: Moi

JOSEPH

The days were short when I was young

And the nights so very long

I suppose every child feels that way

Not wanting to sleep, waiting for day

I knew each evening with my very first yawn

That there was an awfully long wait until dawn

My father, Jacob, had many children indeed

Twelve sons as well as some daughters to feed

We travelled the desert as many did before

With goats and sheep, pots and pans galore

Ever aware and listening out for out God's command

Waiting for Him to reach out His Holy Hand

I knew I was special and as I grew older

My boasts became louder, my actions bolder

My father loved me dearly, set me apart

And I traded on that love from the start

Today I'm not proud of the taunts I threw

And I understand my brothers' point of view

It was the cloak which upset them the most

"How many colours, what style" I'd boast

Then I started on those fateful dreams

They as the stars, bowing to me it seems

I knew it was a vision from The Holy One

And I know now that what was, had to be done

Yet what shock and torment on that fateful trip

When they grabbed my cloak and made me strip

I felt sure then that my dreams were wrong

That I'd misunderstood God's words all along

How could so precious a child; so loved; so good

Be killed for 'pranks' like a common 'hood'?

No thought in my head at the time for prayer

When I felt that knife move clean through my hair

My energy was turned purely to me, my life

Could I stand the pain?  Anguish was rife

Then - the pleasure of a short respite

When the quarrel began - 'Killing's not right!'

My relief was short-lived as I was to see

A goat was caught and tied to a tree

Then it was slaughtered and wrapped in my cloak

The sight and the thought made me cry and choke

My suffering turned then to my father with fear

The pain and hurt would be more than he could bear 

My emotions felt like a strip of rawhide 

At once being stretched, pulled and plied

The moment things seemed to be under control

Hope would be dashed - a knife splicing my soul

I couldn't understand The Lord's mighty plan

My life appeared to be finished before it began

Getting Published

This is a repost from C B Wentworth who did a wonderful critique of 'How I Got Published' by Ray White.

The closer I get to finalising my first book, the more I realise that the writing of it is by far the easiest part.  Having it 'peer reviewed' is going to be difficult; finding an agent and/or publisher is going to be worse; getting it published; worse still and then - Good Grief - will the public even read it?

Writing is not for sissies but having a work published and actually 'making it' must take the fortitude of a superhero - I was going to say 'ox' but then considered that a number of authors are of the feminine gender and we wouldn't at all like to be compared with an ox. :)

Here's a taste of C B's review and a link so that you can read it for yourself, 'from the horse's mouth' so to speak...

C B Wentworth

CB's rating: 3 of 5 stars

The title alone is enough to grab the attention of any writer dying to get published. Famous and not-so-famous authors share their stories of failure and eventual success in the brutal business of publishing.

Organized into short essays, a number of authors write about their experiences with query letters, rejections, agents, deals gone wrong...

Thanks, CB

Free for today, 13 May 2013, only

Hello there

If you have a Kindle, do yourself a favour and check out a super special (Free Stuff) which Andrew Leon has put up.

http://strangepegs.blogspot.com/

I've been following Andrew since I found his blog 'StrangePegs' on the A-Z Blog Challenge.  It's fabulous.

Punctuated!

A quickie to provide answers to the puzzles from my previous post.


One may not start a sentence with 'because', because 'because' is a conjunction.

I wouldn't include the comma after the first 'because' because 'because' is a conjunction in its own right.  

I've also noticed that, in modern dictionaries, it has become common practice to begin sentences with conjunctions. Strange.





Please redo the sign.  The gaps between 'Fish' and 'and' and 'and' and 'Chips' are too large.





Peter, where John had had 'had', had had 'had had'.  'Had had' had had the teacher's approval.

In my opinion, only a sadist would use that sentence as it stands.  Easier reading would be:

Peter, where John had used the past tense 'had', had used the past perfect tense 'had had'.  The past perfect tense 'had had' had had the teacher's approval.


More of the same - or not

My choice of poem shows the powerful effect of alliteration combined with repetition.  I didn't write the poem with this in mind but sometimes things work out differently from what one expects.  In this instance, I can't help but read 'The wheels grind slowly' rather slowly, especially when I reach the third iteration of it.  I find it particularly obvious because the lines between are quite fast-paced.  Perhaps it's just me...

Wheels

The wheels grind slowly

The wheels grind slowly

The wheels grind slowly

As I go on my way

To seek my life

In a different day

The wheels grind slowly

The wheels grind slowly

The wheels grind slowly

As I go on my way

To seek my life

In a different way

The wheels grind slowly

As I go on my way

Punctuation

It's past 1:00 am and I really should get some sleep but my mind won't rest just yet.  Since I can't sleep, I need company, as misery tends to do.

I was going to puzzle your mind  by asking for sentences of three 'because'; five 'and'; and eleven 'had'.  However, that is too much of a mind-bend so here are the sentences for each and while it shouldn't be too difficult to punctuate the first one, the second and third may cause a bit of head-scratching unless you too had a father like mine who loved testing us with such puzzles.




one may not start a sentence with because because because is a conjunction







please redo the sign the gaps between fish and and and and and chips are too large








peter where john had had had had had had had had had had had the teachers approval





It's now way past sleep time so I bid you good night and bon nuit.   Tomorrow's post will reveal all...

Since I'm playing with words, here's a bit of extra fun.  A 'wordy' poem using some names of towns and villages in Lincolnshire.  You'll need to read it aloud to get the best out of it.

SEARCH FOR THE BISHOP

I looked for Bishop Norton
Even went into the church
Bishop Norton wasn't there
So I continued my search

Someone said Brandy Wharf
May be where he Caenby found
Go past the Spital in the Street
Just keep your Hemswell off the ground

If you see Normanby sure to give my best
You’ll know him by his Aubourn hair
While his son Grantham-fisted as he is
Measures his wheat in a Roughton

When I asked at Glentham Store
Where the good Bishop was
And why he wasn’t Holme
I was merrily Laughton my way

I searched for Bishop Norton
But didn't know the wretched score
Of how to cope when my Legsby sore
As I climbed that Sandy Bank each day

I looked for Bishop Norton
Even went into the Church
Bishop Norton wasn't there
So I'll continue my search

Testy Tuesday

How to open a can of worms...

Tuesday is the third day of the week.

Well, in my life it is because I still adhere to Sunday being the first day of the week.  In order to once again completely confuse people, the 'new international standard' has apparently decreed that Tuesday is now the second day of the week.  They are welcome to do so, I simply won't do it - pretty much as I use the (now very 'old fashioned') acronyms 'BC' and 'AD' to define years and eras and not the 'new international standard' of 'BCE ' Before Common Era and 'CE' Common Era (whatever that is supposed to mean).

If people are so intent on restructuring the dating system, why don't they make up an entirely new and modern calendar system?  The Jews have their own calendar; the Chinese have their own calendar; the Hindus have their own calendar; and the Christians used to have their own calendar (granted it became the accepted western international standard calendar a long, long time ago).  So it stands to reason that non-proponents of the Christian belief should not purloin other people's work and, at the very least, make an effort to design their own new and ultra-modern calendar instead of simply amending (to suit their sensitivities) the name of something which was working perfectly well thank you very much?

Alright, rant off.

There is much to be said about living within one's sphere of influence rather than concerning oneself with quandaries completely out of one's control.  Still, when I am impacted by such decisions, I need to rant a bit.  I'll feel better tomorrow, on the fourth day of the week.  :)

On reflection, I'm very happy with my life.

Sunset and clouds in Lombardy East, South Africa [Source: Moi]

Into my Past

If I were to look 
Back into my past
What would I see?
A multitude of hopeful
Cheerful interludes
Dusted with
The Unremarkable 

Would I change it?
The past
I see? 
The Unremarkable?
No!
Not now!
Not ever!

The mistakes I've made 
Teach me my life
The loves 
Lost

Along the way
Strengthen
Establish me 

Even more than that
The loves gone 
The lives lost
The Unremarkable 
Will not ever
Nor cannot ever

Return

If I were to look 
Back into my past
What would I see? 
Myriad buoyant
Joyful intervals
Many more familiar
Unexceptional phases

Would I change it? 
The past
I know?

The Unremarkable?
No!
Not now!
Not ever!

For my past is
Me!